


it's just so wonderful and warm

by daydreamhes



Category: Fine Line - Harry Styles (Album), One Direction (Band), Walls - Louis Tomlinson (Album)
Genre: Gay, Larry Stylinson Is Real, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Harry, One Direction Imagines, Smut, larry - Freeform, stylinson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:41:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27770923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daydreamhes/pseuds/daydreamhes
Summary: louis loves harry's pregnant body while harry just wants his pregnancy to be over
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 50





	it's just so wonderful and warm

Harry is nine months pregnant, three days past his due date to be exact, and all he wants is this baby to be the fuck out of him. His feet are so swollen that he can barely tug his boots on anymore and he can’t remember what it feels like to have a back that doesn’t ache all the time. He’s glad that he’s had this experience and would not trade the little human growing inside of him for anything in the entire world, he just wants the baby to start growing outside of him so he can hold her and see her without having all of this pain and discomfort.

Louis loves Harry’s belly, thinks it makes sense for him to have it, the glow in his face and the happiness that exudes from him when they talk about their baby who will be here before they know it. He knows that he’s tired, having so much extra weight to carry around all the time, and he also feels like he can hardly wait for the baby’s arrival at times, but he thinks that he’ll miss Harry’s round tummy once it goes back to normal.

One afternoon, when Louis gets back from the grocery store, Harry is bouncing around the house on a yoga ball, his hair matted to his forehead with sweat. Louis has to rush to put the bags on the counter before he laughs so hard he drops them.

“What are you doing, love?” Louis asks through a veil of giggles. Harry’s brow furrows, annoyed that his husband is laughing at him. 

“I read that this might help get the baby out,” he huffs, still jumping up and down on the ball. He’s decided to start trying the different options just to see if they persuade the little girl, stubborn like her dad, to make her appearance. He hasn’t even had Braxton Hicks really, which the articles say should have already happened by now, so he’s starting to think he might be pregnant forever.

“She’ll come whenever she’s ready,” Louis says, catching up to Harry to make him take a break from his bouncing routine. Louis rubs his hand over the curve of Harry’s belly that now sits in his lap it’s so big. Harry just huffs, feeling somewhat defeated.

“She’s stubborn like you, Lou,” he rolls his eyes, poking at his belly between the cracks between Louis’s fingers, further emphasizing his point. He laughs back because it’s sort of ironic. Louis had always imagined himself as the impatient and grumpy one, but all the pregnancy hormones have turned Harry into a particularly flamboyant and aggravated version of himself.

Louis goes back into the kitchen, followed by the sound of Harry’s yoga ball slapping the floor, to unpack the groceries that are mostly just bags full of craving foods. There is a list on the counter, in Harry’s handwriting, with “Yoga Ball Time” scribbled out haphazardly at the top of it. Beneath are about ten other things that Louis can only assume are tactics to help induce labor. He laughs to himself, still finding this whole thing rather ridiculous.

“Can we skip to number five?” Harry suggests from the other side of the kitchen, still propped on top of the bouncy ball between his legs. Louis almost chokes on his air as his eyes land on the “Have a Cheeky Orgasm” that is framed with cartoon hearts.  
At the beginning of Harry’s pregnancy, he had been obsessed with reading books and articles about what to do during pregnancy and in the eighteen years following, and every single source said that it is completely normal for sex drive between partners to decline. Whether it be because the other partner starts to view their pregnant counterpart as too delicate to fuck or because th pregnant one is too uncomfortable to engage, sex normally stops becoming as frequent or as hot and heavy. However, that has not been a problem for either of them. Pregnancy has made Harry much hornier and Louis definitely has not minded the way that the baby weight has filled out the edges of Harry’s frame.

Louis just nods, pointing a finger to the bedroom, which is a necessary step these days. If this had been a time before Harry’s pregnancy, they would have started going at it against the kitchen counter with no thought towards the melting ice cream still in the grocery bags, but Harry is a lot heavier and less stable now, especially at the forty-one week mark. Harry teeters behind, almost panting as he makes his way into their room behind Louis.

Because he is so disproportionately heavy, Harry just plops down onto the bed, fully expecting Louis to take his pants off for him, which he does without missing a beat. He grabs the waistband of his maternity sweatpants and gently slides them down his thighs, leaving gentle kisses on the delicate hairs expanding over the skin beneath the stretched gray material. Harry is already losing his fingers into the feathered hair of the boy beneath his legs, practically moaning as he starts imagining what the next few steps of this process are going to feel like.

Before Louis jumps to rubbing against the throbbing cock that is now staring him in the face, he moves to Harry’s belly, skin tight and edges round. He leaves the same delicate kisses all over it, even stopping in certain places to lick up and down, letting his tongue follow the patterns of his new stretch marks. This is sexy. Louis can’t imagine how anyone could look at this new body of Harry’s and not immediately start to get hard. 

“Fuck me, please, daddy,” Harry practically begs as Louis pumped his hand against his cock, still focusing his mouth on the skin right above his belly button.

Louis does what he is told, fumbling around for some lube before quickly applying it and burying himself deep within Harry, hand still splayed across his torso. Louis doesn’t last as long as he would like, so busy looking at Harry’s chest that has started to grow with the rest of him. Harry doesn’t mind, as he finishes right at the same time, so overwhelmed with his own ferocious need.

“Maybe this won’t work so we can do it again,” Harry teases as Louis falls down beside him, wrapped in a warm blanket of postorgasm bliss. They both know that no matter how impatient Harry is feeling that neither of them would mind. 

There is still no luck in terms of contractions. Much to Harry’s dismay, he is not awoken throughout the night by any sharp pains or intense kicks. He wakes up, still super pregnant and just as uncomfortable as the day before.  
Louis wakes up to the sound of Harry’s shoes slapping against the treadmill upstairs. Taking long walks was another thing on his list of ways to induce labor. He can’t help but giggle when he walks in on his husband waddling through treadmill laps, a pair of headphones on his head and on his belly so that the baby can hear his workout tunes too. They’ll both be shocked if the kid doesn’t grow up to be a Britney Spears tribute artist.

Louis passes him a glass of water from behind, startling him a little. Another thing on the list was getting scared suddenly, as if the shock was going to push the baby out. Harry appreciates the gesture because it feels good to have his list validated.

When he goes to move off of the treadmill, Harry is stopped by a jolt of pain that he recognizes as his first contraction. It isn’t that painful, but the excitement alone is enough to bring tears to his eyes. Louis also recognizes it, rushing to his husband’s side, placing his hands on his hips to help guide him through the wave of pain.

“It’s working,” Louis says, trying to encourage Harry as he is able to stabilize after the sudden rush. Harry just laughs.

“Who’s laughing at the list now?”

Three hours pass by without another contraction, so both of them are to assume that it was just one of the Braxton Hicks that they, but mostly Harry, has been reading about. It upsets Harry a little bit as he is forced to be met with the realization that his pregnancy and discomfort is not ending as soon as he thought. He gets back to his list rather quickly though, taking a shot of Siracha to satisfy the “Eat Something Spicy (not Louis)” task on his list.

Louis cooks dinner while Harry recovers from all the spice that ends up not working as he threw up immediately after. They eat on the patio, listening to some of their old Spotify playlists, and relishing in what they both slightly hope is their last night as a two piece. Harry only gets emotional once, as Louis is retelling the story of the night before their wedding, which gets him every time pregnant or not. 

They end up fucking on the patio chairs, which Louis hopes is part of the grand romantic gesture of the night and not just part of Harry’s master plan to induce labor tonight. 

It starts with him nibbling at Louis’s neck and it ends with him on his knees, Louis fucking him from behind. Harry moans, so loud that the neighbors can probably hear, except the liquid that explodes from him is not cum and he is not moaning through an orgasm. He is crying out as a powerful contraction shakes his body while his water breaks.

Louis knows that something is wrong almost instantly, pulling out to check on his husband who is now almost doubled over in pain.

“This is it, Louis.”  
Their daughter is born twelve hours later, happy and healthy but stubborn as ever.


End file.
